But now I find myself somewhere new, with a chance at a normal life. If I can even call it that. I’m lonely because I don’t know anyone, and dating is out of the question. I tried it, but each time I crave the darkness, I scare the men off. I beg for them to be rough, for them to hold me down, to choke me. The feel of fingers wrapping around the column of my neck is what I seek, and yet they’re too fearful to do it. I want tears in my eyes as pleasure courses through me.
Only one person stuck through it, and even then, I sent him away in the middle of the night when he tried to ask me if I was okay.
I finish my drink and set the glass on the bar before waving a goodbye and stepping out into the chilly evening. The streets are still packed with people, and the bustle is a welcome distraction.
But as I make my way home, ice trickles down my spine, and it’s not because of the weather. I glance behind me, casting a look over my shoulder as I try to see where the eerie feeling is coming from.
Turning to my front, I slam into a body so hard it reminds me of a slab of granite. My palms grip the material of the jacket which is soft to the touch. I tilt my head, and glance into the most hypnotic, yet piercing blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, but the stranger doesn’t say anything in return. He stares long and hard at me, as if he’s trying to place my face from a memory. If he is, I pray it’s not working. His mouth opens slightly but he doesn’t say anything.
His jaw is smooth, angular as if it’s been cast from marble. I can’t tell what color his hair is because it looks buzzed, but it is dark. A hoodie covers his head, and I wonder briefly if I can push it down to get a better look.
His sharp features are made more prominent by his nose which is slightly crooked as if he’s been in a fight and it healed off center. It makes him rugged, handsome but in a dangerous way. As if he can easily throw a punch without fear of the repercussions. Men like him are volatile. I should stay away.
The man looks like he should be on the front line carrying heavy weaponry, not on the city streets of London. But then again, I shouldn’t be here either. I should still be living in a small town where everyone knew my name. The place cast me out because my father is a well-known monster.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know why I’m repeating myself. He grunts. It’s the only sound that comes out of him and he turns on his heel and stalks away. His broad shoulders, and long muscled legs make him seem even more dangerous as he leaves me staring at him.
It’s a strange occurrence. One I don’t want to repeat. Running into strangers isn’t on my to do list, now, or ever. I move quickly up the road and watch as people pass me. Another man glances at me and for a second, I see those eyes. But when he turns away, I realize I’m hallucinating. It’s not my father, it’s only an innocent man who’s trying to get home.
I wonder how in one short night my life can take on a whole new meaning.
It’s happened before.
I have a feeling it’s about to happen again. But I can’t quite pinpoint how or why.
I think back to the stranger, how good it felt to be in somebody’s arms again. I haven’t been with a guy I craved before. At twenty-one, I should be out having fun. I should have friends who drag me to parties, but instead, I’m racing home to hide from the darkness outside, only to revel in the darkness on the inside.
CHAPTER FOUR
LUCILLE
My alarm screeches in the darkness of the icy wintery morning, causing me to shoot up in bed. An eeriness hangs over the bedroom, and in the shadows of the space, it’s as if I feel eyes on me. As if someone is watching. With a racing heart, I flick on the bedside lamp to find myself alone in my room.
There isn’t anyone here, but I can’t deny the past few days have been strange. Since the mysterious client logged into my chat room, and the stranger I bumped into on the street, I’ve been on edge.
I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it feels as if I’m being followed everywhere I go. Pushing off the bed, I head into the bathroom, and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look exhausted. At least I have work today, which means I will be around people. The small coffee shop in the business district is constantly busy, allowing me to forget anything bothering me and focus on the rush.